


take my breath away

by waywardflower



Series: i'd give you flowers, but i'm too busy choking on my feelings [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Coughing, Flowers, Gift Giving, Illness, Jeremy's POV, Lunchroom Drama, M/M, Pining, Regret, Reveal, Secrets, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardflower/pseuds/waywardflower
Summary: Michael's coughing, and spending time alone in bathrooms, and hiding something from Jeremy.Jeremy doesn't want to force the issue, but the issue sure is forced.





	take my breath away

**Author's Note:**

> this is probably not what you think it is
> 
> TW for choking later in the chapter

It’s just two days after New Year’s Eve when it starts.  
  
Jeremy’s in the middle of unwrapping Michael’s holiday-neutral gift to him when his best friend starts shifting awkwardly in his chair. At first he mistakes it for excitement. The gift is pretty late—after Hanukkah, Christmas, and even Kwanza—not that Jeremy minds, after the shit he’s put Michael through this year.  
  
Anyway, after carefully untying, untaping and unfolding the wrapping, Jeremy finds himself staring at an Amazon Prime box.  
  
He can’t help himself. “Oh my gosh, Michael. How did you know? It’s...”  
  
“Jeremy Heere, don’t you dare say it,” his best friend groans.   
  
“It’s a box!” cheers Jeremy, prompting Michael to bang his head against the table.  
  
“Where’s the whiskey?” he mumbles into the wood. “I reblogged a post on tumblr that I’d take a shot every time you did that. I don’t wanna remember this moment.”  
  
Jeremy snickers. “What, you’re going to get wasted on one shot? Lame.”  
  
Turning his chin upward, Michael glares at Jeremy and nudges the box cutter toward him. “Hurry up and unbox it already.”  
  
He does as asked, sliding the box cutter under the tape and lifting the flaps. A few more seconds and Jeremy’s holding the softest grey cardigan he’s ever seen and also his heart, so that it doesn’t escape his chest.  
  
“So? What...” Michael clears his throat, giving a few weak coughs. “What do you think?”  
  
He suddenly realizes he hasn’t looked up, or said anything since unwrapping it. Jeremy can’t even speak—nostalgia is like a punch to the gut, stealing his air as he gapes over the replacement Michael’s given him for the old blue cardigan the Squip made him throw out. It’s not the same. Obviously not, it’s grey and doesn’t have quite the same pattern as far as the diamond-knit designs that ran across his other one, but it’s soft and warm. Instead of answering, Jeremy looks up.  
  
Michael’s worry-creased face softens when he sees Jeremy’s eyes, and he reaches slowly across the table to give him a gentle pat. “Try it on, dude.”  
  
Jeremy slides his arms through the sleeves, feeling pleased to find they’re just long enough for him to be able to pull his hands back in and fiddle with the ends. It fits. It’s not the same, and the aesthetic still isn’t the same as it was but it’s closer than that white hoodie or the awful camo-print jacket.   
  
“Michael, I… Thank you,” he breathes.  
  
“No problem,” Michael tells him, mirroring Jeremy’s own smile–then out of nowhere, shoots up in his chair. “Uh! I suddenly! Have shit to do! In your bathroom. I gotta shit,” he blurts, and dashes down the hall.  
  
Blink.   
  
_What did I do? Did I bring up something he didn’t want to talk about? Am I not being grateful enough?_ he wonders.  
  
 _Fuck, fuck, fuck I fucked it up, I better move to Alaska,_ decides Jeremy’s brain.  
  
Then he hears Michael throw up, and relief floods him. _Thank fuck, it wasn’t me._ He goes to check on Michael, guilt pooling in his stomach. _Not everything’s about you, Jeremy._  
  


* * *

  
It happens again on their first day back, four times. It happens out of nowhere both times, Michael staring off into space or in the middle of a conversation when suddenly, he pushes away and leaves the table, coughing and covering his mouth. He’s clearly sick, and also clearly hiding something, because he goes out of his way to use a different bathroom when Jake happens to leave their lunch to use it first.   
  
He’s always coughing now. It’s starting to scare Jeremy. It feels like every time Michael sees Jeremy watching him, it gets worse. He doesn’t know if it’s his own paranoia or Michael’s self consciousness, but he decides on the second day to ignore it. Maybe Michael will get better if he just… doesn’t pay attention to it.  
  
It sounds stupid, even in his head.  
  
Jeremy carefully sips his chocolate milk, pretending to be invested in Christine and Brooke’s discussion of couples in the theater industry while Rich tells his own story to Jake. Chloe is examining her makeup, Jenna is on her phone, and Michael is… Well. Michael is next to Rich, hacking up his respiratory system.  
  
“Dude,” Rich says, throwing an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “You gotta go get that checked out.”  
  
He blanches, then draws his hoodie tighter, looking down. “I’m fine, dude,” he tries to say, but his faulty lungs interrupt him. Jeremy very determinedly does not look concerned, as Chloe raises an eyebrow and smirks from across the table.  
  
Sighing, Michael shrugs off the other boy’s arm. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Hey, who can blame me? You just take my breath away.”  
  
Jake starts singing (take my breath aWAYYYYY~), while Rich snorts and nudges him in the ribs.  
  
“You sure it’s me taking your breath away? I mean, Jeremy is sitting in front of you,” he mutters, not quietly enough.  
  
“WHat?” splutters Jeremy, coughing up his milk. Jake stops singing, and joins an amused Chloe to give him a knowing look. _Fuck._ Caught.  
  
“Uhhhhh…” Rich is wide-eyed.  
  
Michael chuckles, an octave higher than usual. “Haha, yeah. Like Jeremy could make me lose my breath.”  
  
For the next five seconds, there is silence, while Jeremy and Michael make eye contact. They sit perfectly still, both flushing as the staring contest continues. Jeremy doesn’t even know who’s going to win if he blinks. Michael? Jeremy? Rich? He holds his breath, sure that if he breaks the moment, everything ends.  
  
Then his best friend’s eyes go wide.  
  
“Uh,” goes Jeremy.  
  
Michael’s mouth opens, and a wheezing sound comes out.  
  
“Michael?” goes Jake.  
  
His hands fly to his throat.   
  
“Shit,” goes Rich.  
  
He starts to stand up, turns and gets ready to run to the bathroom by himself.   
  
“No, you idiot,” snarls Chloe, rising to prevent him from leaving the company of the people who can save his life, but Rich is already there. He pulls him back, turns him around, and wraps his arms around the choking boy. Then, in six violent jolts, Rich shoves his fists into Michael’s diaphragm.  
  
Something comes flying out and lands on the table. Jeremy stares at it, shell shocked.  
  
It’s a flower. A fucking flower. White, tinged with pink. Pretty big for a morning glory, pretty fresh for something that’s come out of his best friend’s mouth, pretty gorgeous for something that is going to kill Michael, _oh fuck, no not Michael, please no._  
  
Jenna gasps softly, no longer invested in her phone.  
  
“What the fuck,” goes Jeremy.

**Author's Note:**

> the heimlich maneuver is important you guys should practice that, also don't leave other people if you start choking, that's super dangerous you gotta get help dudes
> 
> (michael totally has hanahaki and i totally am writing a series lmao)


End file.
